I'm playing wingman, but I want to pull a Goose and die.
I just witnessed two drunk midgets fighting over a graham cracker. I can die happy now.
Just found a keg and a mini-bike in our garage, this couldn't possibly go wrong
And then she was like, "don't do anything. No blow jobs, don't let him stick his fingers in weird places because people have germs."
He just asked me to pee through my panties while he watched. I might need more tequila for this one.
It's like shitshowville, population: those girls.
Yep. It's going to be us, strippers, and drag queens.
A glittery, gay, heavily makeuped, scantily dressed clusterfuck.
We call it "Dishes: Hard Mode". Basically whoever is doing dishes gets head but needs to finish the dishes before they cum.
And so far nothing been broken!
For the record, it's NEVER ok to discuss my stripper-related injuries with my fiance.
...I'm not a booty call or a pizza...you can't just call/text and expect to be eating me in an hour..
Apparently nick called me at 3 in the morning looking for you because you ate your keys and ran away..do I need to call an ambulance.
Saying I've had more balls in my mouth than you is the last clear, coherent thing I remember.
I'm in my onesie attempting to spoon-feed myself cold soup. I'm playing freeze tag with my hangover. My hangover's winning.
I mean, drunk me really liked him, maybe sober me will too. Who am I to deny fate?
Get the fuck in, we're going to Taco Bell.
Randomize
